


Wait for it

by Zinae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It makes no sense at all, Listening to hamilton on loop is bad for me, M/M, Somewhat, Songfic, Still like it, Wait for it is way too beautiful, onesided Coran/Alfor, plotwhatpot this ist just angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinae/pseuds/Zinae
Summary: Alfor, both the prince Coran met all those years ago, the prince with moonlight hair and sunlight skin, the idealistic warrior who fought everyone and no one at the same time, and the king, the wise man who was still a warrior, still just as beautiful, still just as curious and kind and perfect, was an inferno ready to burn everyone in his way.Not just with the alchemy he preferred, the various bombs he sometimes set off in the castle just for laughs, not just with his speeches, that made his people worship the very floor he walked on, no, he was a force sometimes with his smile alone.Skip a beat and fly away, my heart, this is my life now.





	Wait for it

**_Wait for it_ **

 

_ Love doesn't discriminate _

_ between the sinners _

_ and the saints, _

_ it takes and it takes and it takes _

_ and we keep loving anyway. _

_ We laugh and we cry _

_ and we break _

_ and we make our mistakes. _

_ And if there's a reason I'm by his side _

_ when so many have tried _

_ then I'm willing to wait for it. _

_ I'm willing to wait for it. _

  
  


Being by his side had to be enough.

_ It just had to. _

Alfor was a force to be reckoned with, all light and ideas and ideals, sparkling eyes full of wonder. Hands trembling when he got exited, his words a waterfall of knowledge and power and charisma, lips dripping with kindness and so much good.

_ Please, Gods and deities, all you spirits, please let him keep this smile. _

He was not just a spark of inspiration.

Alfor, both the prince Coran met all those years ago, the prince with moonlight hair and sunlight skin, the idealistic warrior who fought everyone and no one at the same time, and the king, the wise man who was still a warrior, still just as beautiful, still just as curious and kind and perfect, was an inferno ready to burn everyone in his way. 

Not just with the alchemy he preferred, the various bombs he sometimes set off in the castle just for laughs, not just with his speeches, that made his people worship the very floor he walked on, no, he was a force sometimes with his smile alone.

_ Skip a beat and fly away, my heart, this is my life now. _

 

Falling in love was hard, painful and hopeless, emotions scratching his soul raw, love burning his smiles, desire ripping his hands apart, his heart shattering every day with that one simple thought.

_ I can’t. _

His jealousy choked him as he watched Alfor growing close and coser with the other monarchs, as he watched his place being taken by Zarkon, it dragged his nails across his chest and clutched him close, whispering words of horror and pain into his ear and he breathed it, he lived it until Alfor smiled at him and suddenly he was breathing not pain but light, something good and gentle until alfor turned around and he lost sight of that one stubborn strand of hair that always fell in his kings eyes.

Suddenly he knew advanced engineering and how to navigate in higher alien society, charming royalty left, right and centre, his eyes following his king and turning around again, suddenly he was cooking and it was awful, he knew that, but he wanted to get better. He wanted to prove something.

To whom, he had no idea.

Coran kept watching.

Watching over his king and slowly maturing, turning away when it was too much, when Alfors pining after his finacé got too much when those voices just told him to go for it and he forced himself to wait for some kind of sign.

It never came.

So he kept going, fighting his feelings, burning his jealousy, choling the pain and desire with a smile.

And falling deeper and deeper and deeper every time Alfor smiled at him, whenever he gave him good advise.

 

He learned to hate Alfors wife quietly, hated her for taking his place by his side, but he stayed in the shadows, 

He learned even more, just to be useful.

_ It had to be enough. He will never love you back, but you have to stay there. _

Coran was no warrior, but he was a brilliant strategist and politician and he knew what to do when things turned dire for the future Paladins. Working his ass off, protecting his king from manipulations, charming his way out of wars and fights because he could, because as much as Alfor was a genius in the laboratory, as much as he was one hell of a king, he was a mess at social interactions and nothing without his wife and advisor.

That was probably the only time Alfor ever saw her and Coran actually get along. 

When they were lecturing him.

He became something they could not survive without, slowly, surely, worming his way into the circle, the quiet, strong man standing in the background, smiling and twirling his moustache, making comments he got away with because of his year long friendship, while his mind whirled around, analyzing every interaction, every action, every word for a sign. 

Anything.

He learned how to love quietly. 

How to protect.

Ans slowly his jealousy faded to a slight burn worth little mention, compared to the adoration he felt the day allura was born.

 

He had wanted to loathe the child, to have nothing to do with her, but her eyes and er smile, how she grabbed his moustache and laughed.

The splitting image of alfor and oh gods please let him not drop her, she was too precious.

He taught her how to walk and how to outsmart the guards, how to get away with sweets before dinner, how to read the sky like a book and how to wrap her parents around her little finger.

He was her uncle and he wanted to be her friend, but somehow he became something of a second father when she came to him for advice when her father was working and her mother busy with something or another.

She spend her nightmares by his side, listening to his voice telling her stories almost forgotten and maybe not really good for a child, but she was just as much a warrior as her father and Coran reveled in her adoration.

He reveled in Alfors grateful glanes his way when he picked the sleeping girl up and the soft pats on his shoulder.

This became enough.

He could not have Alfors love, but his friendship, this closeness, as strange and as wrong as it felt, as incomplete as he felt, this was enough.

_ It had to be. _

 

_ Death doesn't discriminate _

_ Between the sinners and the saints, _

_ it takes and it takes and it takes _

_ and we keep living anyway. _

_ We rise and we fall _

_ and we break _

_ and we make our mistakes. _

_ And if there's a reason I'm still alive _

_ when everyone who loves me has died _

_ I'm willing to wait for it. _

_ I'm willing to wait for it. _

_ Wait for it. _

 

Losing his wife broke Alfor.

It broke Allura and as little as Coran, who still barely got along with that woman, understood, he kept them sane and functional.

He kept them in one piece as the Galra declared war and as they slowly started losing everything they cherished.

Allura pretty much moved into his rooms, barely sleeping and begging her father to let her try, to let her fight and later to finally use Voltron and fight back.

Coran himself stayed out of it, welcoming Alfor late and later, when things got too much, when the grief and loss overwhelmed the king, who was barely a king, when Alfor was standing there, lost and crying, broken and so old, so very very old and still just as beautiful.

He hugged the man close, hating himself for being this happy when everything was falling apart, but this was everything he ever wanted, Allura sleeping on his leg, Alfor leaning against his shoulder and damn him, he would be tired the next day, barely standing even but this was heaven and a haven to come back to after all the bloodshed and screaming they saw during the day.

They were losing this war and Coran understood why, understood that Alfor was not capable of killing his friend, he understood kindness, he understood loyalty, but Zarkon had betrayed them first and Coran himself only wanted revenge. 

Revenge for the loss of his light and sun, for everything good in his life.

Really, he was ready to wait thousands of years to put an arrow through Zarkons heart himself.

But patience was his forte and he would leave the recklessness and rash decisions to Alfor. 

His hand was careful as he loosened the tangles in Alfors hair, his touch barely a touch as he grabbed the blanket and threw it over them, his lips barely ghosting over a palish forehead. Moonlight hair, sunlight skin, Coran smiled. 

At least he had this. 

 

Finally, finally, after all these years, Coran broke down.

He sobbed and punched Alfors chest, Allura sleeping peacefully in her cryopod, she would never know, never see this and they were alone and Alfor was leaving anyway.

That was exactly the problem, “Alfor, you can’t! don’t do this to Allura, i am begging you… Don’t do this to me.”

Hands full of fabric, barely standing, knees weak, sobbing, screaming, crying.

“I can’t wake up and know that you are gone.”

“I won’t leave, old friend.”

_ Old friend. Old friend his ASS _ .

Alfors smile was soft and lost, as powerful as the first, glowing, gentle, “Remember our research in memory transference? How we managed to create an A. I. based on memories and knowledge? I will be here. I will be your A. I. I won’t leave you. Not you, not Allura, you are everything I have left. I… i lost too much to lose you. Coran, live. Stay safe. Be happy. And leave the rest to me.”

_ How can i be happy when you are not there, Alfor? _

Hands grasped his face and soft lips pressed against his forehead, Coran froze, trembling, gasping, soft, softer, hands clutching deeper, face breaking into a grimace, tears streaming down his face until he somehow, somehow pulled himself together for one moment. 

“Protect my daughter, Coran, she is our last hope. Her and Voltron. Protect them, teach the future paladins what you taught us. What you taught me.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t… you never did.” Alfor whispered and Corans head snapped up, eyes wide, caught, “Live for me and my memory, if you want to. Become my legacy, if you need a reason to keep going. Keep loving me like you did for all these years, I am begging you, keep loving me and stay alive. I am sorry, Coran, so so sorry i never gave you the closure you needed. I am sorry that we are separating like this.”

It was the last thing coran saw when he lost consciousness, Alfors smile, sad and broken, gentle and apologetic, old and lost. 

He wanted to reach out, but this was it. 

There was no answer he could give Alfor. 

No real surprise that he had known all these years and never said a word. 

Coran smiled at his friend.

_ Never lover. Not even once _ .

They never said goodbye.

 

_ Life doesn't discriminate _

_ between the sinners and the saints _

_ it takes and it takes and it takes _

_ We rise. _

_ We fall _

_ And if there's a reason I'm still alive _

_ When so many others have died, _

_ then I'm willin' to- _

 

Allura was glorious, radiant on the bridge. Standing proud and tall, eyes determined, blue, so very blue, just like her fathers.

she was just as stubborn and driven, just as strong and after all this time she still came to him when she could not sleep. 

she still listened to his quiet stories, her hands, tiny, so very small, wrapped in his, because she needed the contact. 

sometimes she asked about Alfor and they heard a quiet chuckle hidden in corners, whenever Coran went on a rant about another reckless stunt Alfor had pulled and somehow survived. He had hundreds of those. Thousands, even, if he took his time and asked the A. I. about a reminder.

He never did. Actually, he avoided the A. I. as much as he could, especially when they noticed that it was capable of touch.

_ It was not Alfor, not his Alfor, just a program, barely a memory. _

_ It was not enough. _

Still, he kept his promise, he smiled at the new Paladins, he taught them what he could, he twirled his moustache and made comments no one understood but the computer. He heard the laughter echoing in empty halls, sometimes he saw an old, but powerful king standing behind his princess and smiling at him, sometimes it broke him a little inside and other times it was all the courage he needed.

_ Bittersweet memories washing over his skin, light touching his cheeks, warming his arms, patterns dancing over his hair, his eyes, his lips and Coran smiled back, genuine and sad, when no one was looking. _

Late nights and later hours filled with quiet murmurs, Allura whispering to her father and Coran standing outside and breathing the deep voice and hating the faint sound of a machine hidden in its depths, hating that this was just an illusion, but somehow this was still something to keep him going.

Some nights he fell asleep at his table, only to wake up in his bed and everyone confused when he asked, only the hologram was smiling and sending him a wink.

 

It hurt more than it should when Allura disabled the program. 

Aching, broken, Alfor slowly, slowly disappearing into data and dust, Coran whispered his “goodbye”, stepping back and hiding behind the paladins, hiding his tears.

_ Waiting for nothing, nothing left, nothing to live for, nothing to protect anymore. _

_ Lies. _

Alluras eyes met his and he lowered his gaze to the floor.

They would grief later, both of them.

They both had lost the last remains of their most beloved.

They would keep living.

Be his legacy.

Alfors, Alteas legacy and they would destroy Zarkon.

They both had patience.

No time, but patience.

Especially Coran.

 

_ Life doesn't discriminate _

_ between the sinners and the saints _

_ it takes and it takes and it takes _

_ and we keep living anyway, _

_ we rise and we fall and we break _

_ and we make our mistakes _

_ and if there's a reason _

_ I'm still alive _

_ when so many have died, _

_ then I'm willing' to- _

 

_ Wait for it... _

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to "wait for it" on Loop.  
> Loop. for four hours straight and i had no idea what to do with the feels and then some moments that just fit popped into my brain and this mess happened. What is this even. Why do I do this to myself.  
> Coran needs more love. alfor is one gorgeous bastard, write more about them guys.   
> Shoot me. Please.


End file.
